


Hands

by Cliophilyra



Series: 30 day OTP Challenge (Done in much more than 30 days) [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Destiel - Freeform, Grace Kink, Hell, M/M, One Shot, PWP, Smut, Soul Bond, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:14:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cliophilyra/pseuds/Cliophilyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Very loosely based on the prompt 'Hands' from a 30 Day OTP Challenge list found on Tumblr.</p><p>Castiel remembers rescuing Dean from Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands

‘The moment you laid a hand on him in Hell you were lost.’ That was what his sister told him and she wasn’t wrong. He can remember nothing in his aeons of existence as vividly as he remembers that moment. He remembers plunging and spiralling through the darkness of perdition, the boiling stifling air surrounding him, his wings twisting around him as he tried to control his descent.

Below him was a man, his soul just a pin prick in the endless void of darkness. There were plenty of other sparks of light down there, other souls that tormented and were tormented but Castiel knew which one was his from the moment he broke through and saw the pit laid out below him. He had never seen anything that burnt as brightly as this soul and that was saying something - he was an angel after all.

When he was close enough he saw the brilliant green flickering light of the soul and observed the terrible wounds rend their way down it as the righteous man wielded the knife pressed into his hand by inevitable destiny. As he watched the ghost of a knife in that figurative hand Castiel could not help but notice the determination with which it was held in his strong hand. The man did not hold back, he gave no quarter. He tortured so he was tortured.

Castiel reached out towards him with his grace as soon as he was close enough. All of a sudden there was consternation and rage. The soul twisted and pulled away, it’s voice screamed in his consciousness for him to leave it be. Let it stay, let it rot. Beyond that though, churning below the resignation and the belief that it deserved nothing more than to stay in this place, was a terrible, desperate, raging need to be saved. 

Castiel grasped the man tightly, both his ravaged soul and his torn body. 

The very second he touched the righteous man a pulse of emotion and energy such as he had never felt before engulfed him. If there is a crack in his chassis this was the crash that opened it. All he knew was that that man was for him. He was his to save, to protect, to love. He would be for him from now on. It would all be for him.

Once he was free of all of the levels of perdition he took stock of what he had dragged out of the dark. The soul was beautiful and terrible and he knew that this man, of all men, was capable of saving them all. The forty years that he spent searching had taken their toll though, the man’s soul and his body hung in tatters. His eyes were huge and grass green but they stared blankly as if caught in some terrible, never ending nightmare.

Before this man would be able to function again Castiel would have to repair him. This was not what he was told to do. He was told to bring the man to Zachariah, they wanted to condition him, to explain things to him, to make him compliant before they send him back but something was yelling in the mind that Castiel was not supposed to have that that was not how it should go.

Instead he laid the man out, knelt at his head and looked at him intently. With scarcely a thought for his orders he pressed his hand firmly on the torn shoulder of the ruined body and tightened his fingers around the hard flesh. He closed his eyes and concentrated on making the man whole again. Power flooded down through him and into the man, an icy blue glow leaked out from under his palm as the excited energy began to gather the scattered pieces of the soul and the man and pull them together, binding them and filling in the broken and missing pieces with Grace. He knew he should stop really, there would be consequences to this decision but he couldn’t stop. He had already seen, he already knew what was to come. When he felt all the parts of the whole re-assemble he opened his eyes and looked down into emerald green, no longer vacant or glassy but awake and focused on him.

Castiel smiled reassuringly and removed his hand from the man’s shoulder. His eyes widened when he saw the raised red hand print he had left, the mark of his grace and the man’s soul joined. Of their bond. He knew there would be many who would think what he had done was wrong, he would get hauled over the coals for this he was sure, but he was also sure that this was how the story should go and you can’t argue with a story.

The man was staring up at him, unsure but not afraid.

It was time to start the story.

Without thinking Castiel bent down and kissed the man’s forehead softly before he smiled and said, “It’s time to start again Dean. I will see you soon.” Even in his true voice, in that place, the righteous man heard him and understood and nodded like he knew what had to be done.

—————————————————————————————

So much time has passed since then. When he finally met Dean on Earth he didn’t even remember Castiel, which was the price the angel had agreed to pay for his disobedience - for the cracking of his chassis. He paid the price gladly though because he had seen the story in its entirety and he knew what they didn’t know; the ending.

——————————————————————————————

He presses his palm to the red mark still on Dean’s shoulder and feels that burst of shared grace shoot between them again. Dean cries out and arches up towards him, his head falling back against the pillow. Castiel drops his head to Dean’s throat, opening his mouth at the place where his neck meets his shoulder and dragging his teeth lightly over warm salty skin.

Dean writhes under him, grabbing at his hips and thrusting up into him. Cas moans as Dean hits that sweet spot and he grins against Dean’s neck, sucking a mottled dark mark over his collarbone then laving the bruised skin with his tongue. Cas moves slowly, wanting to take his time, to enjoy the sensation of completeness that he feels when Dean is inside him.

“Oh God Cas…so good…oh…fuck,” Dean moans, past the point of making any kind of sense now, his eyes are unfocused now but this time rather than some terrible vision of hell all he can see is Cas.

Dean’s rough calloused fingers grip Cas’s hips with one hand, moving to grasp at his ass and pull him down onto his cock as he pushes up to meet him. His other hand wraps around Castiel’s cock and begins to jerk him hard. Cas gasps as once again Dean hits the perfect angle that makes stars shoot behind his eyes.

“Cas! Oh fuck….gonna…uhn.”

Cas begins to move faster, feeling the muscles in his thighs burn as he slides himself up and down Dean’s cock, the sensation of fullness and the pleasant burn and stretch combine with the bursts of intense pleasure whenever Dean hits his prostate and he feels himself begin to teeter on the edge. “Oh Dean, oh….yes…yes…oh…wanna come…wanna make you come.”

Dean groans and pushes up harder, “Oh…you’re gonna make me come baby…Cas…mmm,”

Cas leans down and covers Dean’s mouth with his own, sliding his tongue against his and running his teeth gently along his bottom lip. As he feels Dean begin to tense up below him he slams his hand back onto his hand print on his lovers shoulder and pushes with his grace. He feels the answering push across their bond as the part of his grace that lives inside Dean rushes to meet him and then he is falling over the edge and coming in thick pulses over Dean’s hand. As he does he feels Dean moan into his mouth and then the unmistakable heat as Dean comes inside him, his hands squeezing his ass, blunt finger nails digging into soft flesh, mouth wet and hot and demanding.

As they gradually come back to themselves Cas smiles at the total feeling of serenity that washes over him. He looks down at the green eyed hunter who grins up at him looking happier and more at ease than the angel has ever seen him. It has been a long time coming but although Castiel has known he was lost from the moment he laid a hand on this man in hell, he has also known since that moment that Dean would be the one to find him again.


End file.
